


Single Word - Prompt Collection

by BedroomWriter13



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, One Shot Collection, Random & Short, Writing Exercise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28712739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BedroomWriter13/pseuds/BedroomWriter13
Summary: A collection of single-word prompts. Each chapter is stand alone - and you never know what you'll get.
Kudos: 13





	1. Premium

"I'm not kidding, Rach," Chloe pouted, arms crossed as she sat on the junkyard couch. "This is a premium locale."

Rachel was shaking her head dismissively next to her, even if it contradicted the amused smile on her face. "What makes it so 'premium', Price?"

"Well, me, for one," she retorted, poking herself in the chest as she spoke. A smirk was pulling at the corners of her mouth as she tried to make her sales pitch. "Land values jump wherever I walk."

Rachel gave one last shake of her head, blonde hair waving, before she laid back on the couch, using Chloe's lap as a footrest. "Whatever you say, Midas." She was quiet for a moment, looking around the little shack Chloe had repurposed as a strange, dilapidated hangout space. "You really did a good job in here, C."

Chloe smirked, resting a forearm on Rachel's shins as she glanced around as well. It had taken a while to make the little shack somewhat inhabitable, at least when the weather was nice. If it was raining (which was often), it was a little more miserable. She'd have to see if she could find some more tarps laying around. "Thank you. I did it for the price of zip."

"I can tell," Rachel commented, the same amused smile slipping on to her face. It gradually slipped away as she stared up at the ceiling, sighing. "Mom still mad?"

Chloe snorted, shaking her head. The last argument she had had with her mother sat heavily in the back of her mind, words of frustration and disappointment almost haunting her. "Is David still a dick?" she asked rhetorically, scowling.

"I'm sorry." It wasn't an apology for bringing it up - it was for the situation Chloe was stuck in.

Rachel sat up, sliding closer so she was almost sitting in Chloe's lap. She was reaching out for Chloe's hair, still trapped under the beanie, and Chloe had half a mind to block her. She didn't want to be comforted, didn't want to feel weak, but ultimately decided against it, letting Rachel's fingers run through the blue hair.

"Are you going to keep this blue?" Rachel asked. It seemed like she was trying to change the subject, but Chloe appreciated it for what it really was - a reasonable excuse to allow those fingers to work a sort of magic on her psyche.

Chloe sighed, reaching up to pull her beanie off. She knew there was almost an inch of strawberry blonde showing at her roots, and the blue had lost its vibrance over the last few months. "Maybe? I don't really know. Didn't think that far in advance when I did it."

"Well, I like it, if you want to keep it," Rachel responded, taking advantage of the lack of a beanie to gently scratch at Chloe's scalp. The sensation drew a little sigh out of Chloe's throat, relaxing further into the couch as she closed her eyes. "Okay?"

Chloe nodded, taking a deep breath as Rachel's fingers kept running through her hair. "Yeah, I'm okay." She opened her eyes to see Rachel watching her with a composed look, brows furrowed slightly. Chloe didn't like this look, not at all - she wasn't something to pity. Fortunately, Chloe was very good at ruining the moment. "Thanks for the, er, premium spa day."

Rachel groaned slightly, although an almost adoring smile had turned the corners of her mouth up. "You are ridiculous, Chloe Price," she muttered, starting to pull away. Chloe could only grin back, letting Rachel pull away and continue using her as a footrest.


	2. Stitch

"Chloe, stop moving! You're going to make it worse!" Max's lip was quivering, and she kept sniffing as she tried to keep herself from crying again.

Chloe was biting her own lip, trying to keep her face as unconcerned as possible. "Max, it doesn't hurt that bad," she responded, watching the younger girl. Chloe didn't know what exactly happened - one second she was on her board, feeling fierce, and the next she had tumbled towards the ground, automatically stretching out her hand to try to brace herself.

Her wrist, evidentially, was really bad at taking a fall.

Chloe reached out with her foot, kicking the bottom of Max's shoe. "Max, seriously, your mom's on her way with the car, right?"

Max sniffed before she rubbed her forearm over her nose. "Yeah," she said, voice wavering. She had ran around the corner when Chloe asked to get her mom. Max didn't need to know that Chloe insisted on it so she could let a few tears out, with no one around to judge her.

"Then I'll be fine, okay?" She didn't know what was possessing her to act as though her wrist wasn't in excruciating pain. Maybe it was because Max was more upset that she was, even though Chloe was the one in physical pain.

She didn't know how long it took before Max's mom pulled up, jumping out of the car and walking swiftly towards them. "Chloe? Are you okay?" she called, concern in her voice.

"Hey Mrs. C, I think I'm okay," Chloe said quickly, eyes darting to Max and hoping she didn't try to rat her out.

There was no camaraderie, only mutiny. "No, she's not, Mom, she's lying," Max retorted, fresh tears starting to brew in her eyes again.

Max's mom crouched down next to them, hand outstretched to grab Chloe's upper arm. She gently moved the injured arm, stopping when Chloe unintentionally winced. "Well, Chloe, I think we need to run over to the hospital - Max, take a deep breath, you're not the one who got hurt!"

"Did you call my mom?" Chloe asked, trying not to look at Max, lest she set her off again.

Max's mom nodded, standing up. "She's at the diner, she said she'd meet us there if we needed to go. Now, do you need me to help you get up?"

Chloe shook her head, using her right hand to push herself up onto her feet. "See Max? I'm fine!" she declared, even as she winced when twisting her shoulder unexpectedly.

Max's mom opted for Max to sit in the front seat, which calmed Max down a bit - she wasn't usually allowed in the front seat, as she was too short for it. For what it was worth, Chloe didn't have to wear a seatbelt for once, and she'd have argued that was the better prize.

Under better circumstances, she might have even kicked the back of Max's seat a few times, but she was, honestly, scared to move.

"Mrs. C, do you think I'll need to get stitches?" Chloe asked, staring at the malformed wrist out of pure interest.

"Chloe, you're not bleeding," Max commented, turning around in her seat to face her. Her eyes were just barely visible between the headrest and the main seat. "Where would you-"

"Max, butt in the seat." The small girl automatically turned back around, a little pout appearing on her face as she obeyed her mother. Her mother, meanwhile, was turning around herself to look at Chloe. "Chloe, honey, I don't know. Depends on how you fell, I guess."

"Is it broken?" Max asked, staring at her mom with wide eyes.

She shrugged, eyes fixed back onto the street as she drove. "I think so. We'll let the smarter people at the hospital decide though, okay?"

"Can we get ice cream after this?" Chloe asked, trying to hide a smile. She knew there was no way they _wouldn't_ get ice cream, regardless. Last time Max fell and scraped her knee, they had gotten ice cream after Joyce had gotten her cleaned up. Surely it would work again?

Max's mom had her own smirk on her face. "Sure, Chloe. Don't think I don't know what you're doing, though."

"What is she doing?" Max asked, starting to turn around in her seat again as Chloe snickered. "Chloe, what are you-"

"Butt in the seat, Maxine!"


	3. Cotton

It was a secret Victoria would be willing to take to the grave.

She knew her reputation from a young age. Knew she was the "rich kid", and her parents meant well, but somehow managed to destroy her image by flashing dollar bills everywhere they went. Most of her friends only kept her around because she'd pay for whatever activities they wanted to do. The handful that wanted to know her as a person ended up walking away, either not able or not willing to deal with her attitude.

And Victoria absolutely knew she had an attitude, not that she'd admit it to anyone. At some point, back in elementary school, she had decided being a snobby kid might make up for the fact that she couldn’t make a friend to save her life. Even at that young age, even if she couldn't piece together the reason for her rebellion, she was trying find herself, or at least some semblance of who she might be.

She was, as she often was, wrong in thinking her behavior would help.

Instead, her parents just threw more money her way. Be it more family vacations, therapy, toys - she could wheedle her way into just about anything, and they'd pay for it. Her parents noticed her behavior, and commented on it, but she was able to get away with it with an apology and a promise to try harder.

At some point, she had went from being well-dressed, with clothing her parents and their friends had picked out for her, to _exceptionally_ well dressed. It was a statement that she could wear, reminding those that knew her, and those that had never met her, that she was a force to be reckoned with. And if anyone dare ask her what her favorite article of clothing was, she had that answer ready - her Brunello Cucinelli sweater, the cashmere one. It was, undoubtably, comfortable, and stylish, and - most important - expensive, and no one would ever question it.

But her favorite article of clothing, really, was this old cotton t-shirt.

She had found it in a lost and found bin in middle school, and had taken it for no other reason than she could. It was a nice purple hue, sure, and maybe that's how it caught her eye, but there was nothing special about it. She certainly didn't want to wave it around in her parents' faces, although she knew they wouldn't judge her for it. Her parents were rich, but they were far from snobby. Victoria was the snobby one in their household.

But she took the shirt home, washed it when no one was paying attention, and after pulling it over her head, still warm from the dryer, she had fallen in love.

She knew it was just a shirt, and she could buy a million more just like it if she wanted to. There was something about it being a secret, though, that made it even more alluring. She'd calculate when she could just wear it around the house, making sure she didn't get caught on one of the outdoor cameras with it. Inevitably, when she was packing for Blackwell, she had packed it, too, buried at the bottom of one of her suitcases.

Her parents thought it was maturity blossoming when she insisted she'd pack and unpack her own suitcases. Honestly, it was fear. She unpacked each article the day she moved in, one by one, long after her parents had left the campus, saving that old friend for last. She'd even worn the shirt to bed that night, quietly thankful that she could wear it with the door locked and without a care in the world.

No one at Blackwell knew about the shirt. To be fair, no one at Blackwell really knew her, either.


	4. Cafe

Kate waited patiently at their usual table, sipping on her tea cautiously to prevent burning her tongue. Max was prone to be late on their outings, so she wasn't surprised to see ten minutes pass before the brunette stumbled into the cafe, gasping slightly for air.

"Kate, I'm so sorry, time got away from me," she spluttered, throwing herself into the chair across from Kate quickly.

Kate responded with a smile and another sip of her tea. She truly didn't mind Max being late - drinking tea was far from a life-or-death situation. "It's fine, Max, I was just doing some people watching."

Max was yanking her book bag from around her neck, tossing it into the chair next to her. "Anything good?" she asked, fidgeting in her chair as she got comfortable.

"One guy ordered a mocha, and then got confused when he realized mochas are really just coffee."

"Sounds like a wild ride," Max joked, grabbing the cup in front of her and breathing in. "This smells fantastic, what is it?"

"Earl grey. Just working our way through the classics." It had been Max's suggestion to push her to try different things - in this case, different teas. Kate wouldn't consider herself a connoisseur of tea, but she was perfectly capable of keeping a list of all the teas offered at the shop, and crossing them out after each tea date. "How was your day? You seemed distracted in Mr. Jefferson's class."

Max shrugged half-heartedly, preoccupied with taking a sip. Her eyes grew wide as she put the cup down, gazing into the dark liquid. "That's really good," she commented, glancing back up at Kate.

Kate gave her a polite smile, raising her eyebrows. "It's a classic for a reason...but you dodged the question."

Max took a larger gulp - maybe there was an art to showing up ten minutes late, to have tea be past the burning hot stage. "Just have a lot on my mind. It's weird being back in Arcadia Bay."

"Anything in particular? I don't want to pry," she added quickly, taking a sip of her own tea.

Max smiled, shaking her head. "It's nothing, Kate, really." She swirled her cup for a second before looking back up. "I heard Dana talking about the next Vortex Club party earlier."

"Are you going?"

Max snorted. "Pass. I think I'll settle in for a movie night instead." She nodded her head in Kate's direction. "You're welcome to join me. I'll probably just play whatever is on the USB Warren gave me the other day."

Kate nodded in response, considering the idea. "That sounds nice." It did...but curiosity was starting to get the better of her. "Although, I was kind of wondering if I should go to the party."

Max started frowning, blue eyes squinted in confusion. "Really?"

"I know it's not my thing, but I've never been to a party," she responded, shrugging. She could only imagine how furious her mother would be to know that Kate was even considering going to a party where there would be alcohol, and maybe that was one of the reasons she was interested.

"I haven't been to a 'real' party either," Max said quickly, fingers tapping on her cup. She seemed thoughtful, even if she was still squinting at Kate. "I mean, if you want to go, I'm not going to stop you or anything."

Kate shrugged again, gulping down the last of her tea. "I might just get caught up on homework instead. It should be much quieter, with everyone out of the dorms."

Max laughed, picking up her cup with a grin. "I'll drink to that."


	5. Sulphur

"Chloe, this might surprise you, but I _have_ seen fireworks before," Max commented, bemused as she watched her best friend's excited expression. "And I know for a _fact_ you have, too."

Chloe snorted, turning her head to look at Max. She had already tossed a blanket down on the roof, and was currently sprawled out on it so she could stare up at the sky. "So? How often do you watch fireworks from the top of a skyscraper?"

Max sighed, even though she felt a smile pulling at the corners of her lips. She still wasn't sure how Chloe had managed to pull off getting the maintenance crew to leave the door unlocked for them. "Haven't done that before," she muttered, crossing her arms.

"Sit your ass down, Caulfield. They're going to start any minute." Max groaned dramatically as she sat down, eventually falling backwards so she was laying next to Chloe.

Finally, the first firework was sent skyward. It burst into a loud explosion of green and blue, and even over the noise, she swore she could hear Chloe's intake of breath at the sight. She watched the explosions for a little bit before turning her head to watch Chloe's expression instead. There was a childlike wonder on her face, and if Max had ever doubted her decision to let the storm claim Arcadia Bay, that doubt was long gone. This was worth it. Chloe was worth it.

Chloe glanced over at her as well, doing a double take as she realized Max wasn't watching the sky anymore. "Hey, you're missing it," she commented loudly, frowning as she stared back at Max.

Max had to shake herself before turning her attention back towards the sky, although she wasn't paying attention to the explosions taking place. Her mind was a little too full all of a sudden. "Yeah, sorry."

Chloe was propping herself up on her elbow, turning her body to face Max. "What's going on? You okay?"

"Yeah, just...just thinking, that's all." When Chloe didn't move, she finally looked away from the sky to give her shoulder a little push, trying to ignore the concern now etched in the blue-haired woman's face. "Watch the fireworks, that's what we're here for, right?"

Instead of letting herself fall back down, Chloe twisted so she was sitting up, cross-legged on the blanket. Her frown was continuing to grow, eyes starting to become panicked. "I don't give two fucks about the fireworks. What's wrong?"

Max shrugged, putting her hands behind her head. The blanket wasn't doing much to cushion them from the cement. "I was...I'm just...I'm happy."

One eyebrow shot up, almost concealed by blue hair. "Happy?" she questioned, the panic melting away into severe doubt.

Max took a deep breath, the smell of sulphur and smoke in the air. "Yeah. I'm happy that you're here. That _we're_ here," she added, looking out at the NYC skyline.

"Oh." Chloe's head tilted back up to watch the explosions for a moment, her face oddly blank. Gradually, as the different colors lit up her face, a small smile starting to spread across her face. "I'm happy we're here, too," she said quietly, almost inaudible over the _bang_ that rang out from the next burst of color.


End file.
